


finis

by mad_marquise



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Angst, Codependency, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, Fugitives, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_marquise/pseuds/mad_marquise
Summary: this isn't the end, not really.





	finis

**Author's Note:**

> this is what i finish instead of making more headway with my series
> 
> i started this the night the finale aired, sitting in my car after work writing frantically in the notes app in my phone lol. didn't get time to finish it until now. antonio and hank are on the lam and tryin not to lose it. 
> 
> MAJOR SPOILERS for the season finale 6x22 obviously! picks up right where that episode left off.

Hank kills Brian Kelton that night. The very first night of his mayorship, Hank breaks into his home and shoots him, and it’s a fast and messy and _satisfying_ death.

He drives, never looking back.

  
  


Antonio’s been AWOL since Adam’s arrest earlier, but Hank manages to locate him with little lead, because the two of them always find their way back to each other. Antonio’s parked on a deserted overpass. Hank pulls up next to him, knocks on the passenger window, and Antonio lets him in. Hank notices the empty baggie lying on the center console. Antonio notices the flecks of blood on Hank’s cheek. Neither man says a word about any of it.

In another life, if they were younger, they might’ve fucked in the car. But it’s not a time for what-ifs and wishful thinking. Instead, Antonio takes Hank’s hand in his own, brings it to his lips, and kisses it over and over, murmuring a million broken _thank yous_. Hank uses that hand to tug him closer. He notices Antonio’s flat, exhausted expression mirrors his own before he cranes his neck to kiss him on the forehead, the cheek, finally his mouth. Antonio tastes chalky, dry. Hank feels Antonio’s tongue sweeping across the cut on the inside of his lip, the one that feels like it’s been etched there permanently from how often he’s bit back rage the past few weeks.

None of that matters, now. He can’t -- _they_ can’t -- dwell on the past. There’s no fucking time for that if they have any hope of moving forward.

“Follow me,” Hank says when he pulls away for air. He strokes behind Antonio’s ear, a soothing gesture he’s done many a time for a loved one. “A car length behind. We’re getting out of here.”

Antonio tails Hank to his subdivision and parks on a street nearly a block away. Then he grabs as many of his personal belongings as he can from his truck before running the rest of the way to Hank’s house. When they get to work converging all their things into Hank’s van, Antonio doesn’t bother asking about Eva and Diego, about the rest of the team, because he understands this isn’t an end, but a way to forge a new beginning. At least, that’s what Hank hopes his partner is thinking. They’ve barely spoken this entire time. A few weeks’ worth of clothes and supplies get stowed between the seats. They trash their phones in favor of old burners. An inordinate amount of cash from Hank’s safe gets tucked into the lining of the doors, the torn openings sealed over with gaffer tape. When the house is locked, Antonio and Hank stand before one another beside the car.

Antonio suddenly backs Hank up against the car and presses up against him good. He kisses more frantically this time, desperate and angry and sad. Hank grunts and tilts his head back when Antonio’s mouth drifts down along his neck, hisses when his teeth sink into the junction of neck and shoulder.

“We gotta get moving,” Hank murmurs, carding his fingers through Antonio’s hair. “They’ll be swarming the house looking for us.”

Antonio finishes sucking the love bite into Hank’s skin and stays in that position when he decides to speak. “You sure you don’t wanna give it up already, Hank?”

Hank’s blood runs cold.

“Have you ever known me to give up?” His nails dig into Antonio’s jacket. “You’re not so different from me. You had every opportunity to take the fall for Rizzo and you didn’t. We’re in too deep now, honey.” He grips harder. “And I’m not letting you get anything else over on me.”

“After all this time…” Antonio lifts his head. He’s grinning, lips red, a little manic. “You still think I’m a rat.”

“These are troubled times.” Hank kisses him. “Get in the fucking car.”

  
  


 

They find some around-the-way motel beyond city limits and give the manager hush money. In their small room, Hank lounges on the single Queen bed while Antonio leans out the screen-less window and smokes a cigarette. It’s been decades since he’s done it, and it scares him a little, how easily he falls back into the rhythm. Smoke burns its way down his throat before being expelled into the sky in curling wisps. Antonio knows this, like taking the Oxy earlier, is a very misguided comfort tactic, and the irony isn’t lost on him given his current situation.  He feels Hank watching him watch the town outside. Hank, who still has Brian Kelton’s blood on his fucking cheek.

“Those’ll kill you,” he hears Hank say.

Antonio takes a drag, exhales, speaks while his throat is still thick. “...Sure _you_ won’t first?”

“Not unless I need to.”

Antonio faces him and smirks. “Hey, partner, we’re not in Chicago anymore.”

“I didn’t realize a little vacation was supposed to rewire my entire frame of mind, Antonio.” Hank crosses stocking feet at the ankle and laces his hands behind his head. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone. To the untrained eye, he’d be the poster boy for R&R right now. Antonio almost laughs at the thought. Hank has too much baggage to ever truly unwind, and yet, Antonio is still so drawn to him, even after all the terrible, horrible things they’ve both done and been through together.

“No, but...you don’t have to play by the same rules if it’s a different game.”

Antonio stubs out the cig. He settles in next to Hank on the bed and starts flipping through the channels on TV. Kelton’s corpse is plastered on every single one. Hank is silent and stock still as Antonio tucks his head under his chin and murmurs sarcastically, “What a win, Sergeant.”

“Not quite,” Hank murmurs. “Clearly, the game’s not over yet.” The current news station is showing endless footage of weeping Chicagoans and incensed rioters in the streets, and cops trying to contain the all-out pandemonium that’s ensued over the death of the new mayor. An anchor is announcing a reward CPD is offering for any leads brought to the Department’s attention. The dollar amount flashes on-screen -- and wow, that’s quite a few digits.

Not as much as they gave the bastard at the front desk, but a pretty penny nonetheless.

Antonio closes his eyes. “So what’s your next play, baby?”

He listens to Hank breathe, feels the rise and fall of his chest and the stutter of his pulse for a full minute before Hank responds.

“ _Our_ move,” he says firmly, “is to stay afloat. Everything that’s gone down thus far has happened for a reason. We’ve got no choice but to watch and see things through.”

  


 

Before they shut off the lights, Antonio licks his thumb and scrubs the lingering spot of blood off of Hank’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot imagine what season 7 will bring....
> 
> dec 2019 note: we now know that this is NOT anywhere near where season 7's premiere went but i'm still mad proud of this. 
> 
> thanks for reading, feedback much appreciated.


End file.
